


Hide Away With Me

by CherryJacks



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: BeautifulDestructionShipping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryJacks/pseuds/CherryJacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What are you running away from? Your failures, your shame, your fear? Why let those things cause your legs to ache from running for so long, why waste another moment hating what you've become. There is a place for you in Team Skull, you just have to reach out your hand and accept it. </p>
<p>You think you are a monster.</p>
<p>I think you are the perfect fit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide Away With Me

**Author's Note:**

> We're going to see where this madness goes and see what I can form with this pairing.

    The Alolan sun was bright and the sound of waves perfectly soothing paired with the glittering sand that warmed toes and cushioned bodies that relaxed upon it to work on a tan. It was everything a visitor wanted and hoped for and  what was seen printed on so many postcards being sold in each and every souvenir shop on the Islands that decorated the tropical region. Another expected luxury was the fine rooms available at Alola's famous hotel. A beautiful building that welcomed many tourists into its doors each and every day. All of them greeted by the most bright faced and friendly staff, always the same well practiced routine of charm and smiles.

Even though the sun was still indeed bright and waves sounding soothing off in the distance, it didn't change the fact that the latest shuttle of tourists were greeted at the hotel in a much different way.

With a face that was bright and red with anger, the hotel manager came running out the front doors. His fingers angrily jamming the buttons on his cell phone to make a call. The other sight that drew the tourists was a group of people all dressed in matching black garb, cans of spray paint littering the ground around their feet. The once pristine, clean walls of the building were now all marked with various symbols. The largest one was well known to the raging manager and he screamed through his gritted teeth when his call finally went through, "I want Team Skull arrested now! They ruined my perfect hotel!"

Another yell filled the air, but it lacked the anger that the manager felt. This shout carried amusement with it as it filled the air, "Scatter crew!"

As quick as Team Skull appeared they were gone, leaving nothing but their logo and many empty cans of paint to give the tourists the true Alolan welcome.

~*~

Leading his group of miscreants, all grinning wide and whispering excitedly amongst themselves, was their proclaimed leader Guzma. They followed him loyally on the worn walking path that aided their quick escape from the hotel. He only paused when he heard a snapping of twigs that sounded ahead of them. His sunglasses were slowly moved off his nose to rest on his bleached mop of hair before he turned to his grunts behind him, "Ey! Shut it for a sec. We ain't alone!"

"Maybe it's big sis?" One member piped up.

"I said shut it!" Guzma spat. He signaled for the others to wait behind while he moved ahead to investigate, pushing through the thick growth that lined the path to try to spy what was making the noise. He was expecting it to be a pokemon, but better safe than sorry. He'd hate to be the one to make the call from holding to Plumeria to bail him out... again. It wasn't a pokemon he saw when he parted the plants, but a man who had appeared to have sat to rest his legs for a while. Although his tattered mane of ginger hair was quite the sight, it was his clothes that hung on his body that caught the Team Skull leader's eye. Hung on his body was the correct description. The man looked as though he had been dumped into a hole and dug out again. A sight so strange in fact that Guzma immediately chose to investigate further. Though his methods were less than subtle and truthfully his sudden voice caused the man to flinch.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked, clearing the brush only to have it filled with the prying gazes of his grunts. All much too curious for their own good he often thought. The man was silent only lowering his hand that he had brought to his heart when he was startled. Guzma tried a different approach, "You have a name?" Again there was no answer, "Well you can call me Guzma if you ever find your voice." He pondered a moment, "You ain't mute right?"

The man slowly shook his head while his eyes trailed to the group that watched from the overgrowth. Guzma followed his line of sight before he addressed the group, "Get lost now! Tell Plum not to wait up for me. I'm going to stay to figure out this guy's damage for a bit."

There was a moment as though one of the grunts would argue, but Guzma was quick to interrupt, "Ya heard me! Now get going!" Before they disappeared completely he yelled again, "You all better not run across any cops on the way! Straight to Plumeria's place ya hear me!"

Once he was satisfied he squatted down to be closer to what he was currently considering to be the saddest looking man he had ever seen. At one point of his life he must have had it together he thought. His tattered clothes looked like the remains of what once was a finely made suit. He tried to imagine what it must have looked like perfectly pressed and hole free. His hair was probably much better cared for, perhaps styled just right without a single hair out of place. All in all the man probably once looked like the type of fancy-pants that he would mock. There really wasn't anything that he cared to mock now honestly, the man looked horribly down on his luck.

"You gotta have a story. Why else would you be sitting out in the wilderness wearing clothes that make it look like you got into a fight with a lawnmower."

The man met his gaze and after a couple of breaths, relented, "Lysandre, my name is Lysandre." He paused as though it was supposed to carry some weight behind it, as though Guzma was supposed to have immediate recognition. When it never happened Lysandre's face twisted in confusion, "Don't you know who I am? Don't you want to spit on me and chase me off?"

"Whoa there, pal." Guzma raised his hands up, "I don't know nothing about anyone with a name like that. I think I'd remember."

Lysandre's confusion remained, "Truly?" There was almost relief in how he said it. He ran his fingers through the front of his hair, snagging it briefly on knots, "Perhaps my days of running are finally over."

Guzma quirked an eyebrow, "Running away, huh? You get into some trouble or what?"

He was caught off guard when the man known as Lysandre began to laugh, but he couldn't help but notice how rich and lively it was, "Trouble? That is such a simple way of putting it. My failures will curse me for my entire life." The laughter that bled into his words died off, "I am a horrid man, a monster, a failure, a reject."

"Perfect." Guzma chimed.

He bound to his feet and offered his hand that Lysandre hesitantly took. Once he stood Guzma couldn't help but stare at just how tall Lysandre actually was.

"Goddamn..." He muttered under his breath.

"How are any of those things perfect to you?" Lysandre bitterly asked, pulling Guzma from his trance.

A smile flashed across his face, "You are exactly the type of person that belongs with me and my crew. We are all rejects, failures, and varying degrees of awful." He stepped closer to Lysandre's form and picked at some plant matter than was stuck on the fabric of his rags, "You say you are a monster, I'm fine with that." His fingers walked up Lysandre's chest only to stop with his next words, "A monster I could use, so how about you show me."

A small chuckle left his lips at how Lysandre seemed so frozen and yet so tethered to each and every word he spun, "How about you quit running and join me."

After what seemed like an endless expanse of time, both men trying to pick out each other's motives from their eyes, Lysandre gave his answer.

"I don't want to run away anymore, lead me."


End file.
